A Magical Christmas Carol
by Xenolord
Summary: "Christmas, a humbug, Aunt?" A retelling of the classic Dickens tale, a Christmas Carol, with all your favorite Madoka Magica Characters filling in the roles! Light shoujo-ai references and MANY liberties taken.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Puella Magi Madoka Magica Characters (Save for Masami and Jaina) depected in this story, nor do I own the story 'A Christmas Carol' as it is owned by Charles Dickens.

Backstory: 'A Magical Christmas Carol' was supposed to be my 2012 Christmas Fiction, to be entered on December 25th, 2012. HOWEVER, as it so happened, that happened to be a particularly bad year for me and, miserable of mind and unfinished of page, I tossed it to the backburner, where it would stay for two years. I recently rediscovered it, and decided to, not only finish it, but to post it before Christmas, so I didn't forget. SO YES, It's September, leave me alone!

A Magical Christmas Carol

Tomoe Mami was dead to begin with. Had been for these seven long years. The snow fell upon the harsh Mitakiharan winter, painting the glass buildings and asphalt streets a beautiful alabaster, the electric street lights humming to life as the sun began to set upon this city. Even in this late hour, a single light burned in a single shop, three tiny lights flickering in the relative darkness of the window. Two figures sat inside this shop. One was a young woman, early mid thrities, with short blue hair and two rusted clips holding her bangs out of her face. She dressed poorly, her clothes dirty and worn, and even in this modern day, she wreaks of poverty, her gloves moth-ridden and fingerless. She sits upon a wooden desk, rickety and somewhat rotten, scribbling upon a piece of paper, her pen scratching against the paper with all the speed her frozen fingers can afford. A small lantern burns upon the desk, providing the young woman with enough light to see the numbers upon the page, also providing her the much-needed heat her poor fingers need to stay flexible.

The second figure was an aged woman, mid to late forties. Her long raven hair was frayed and graying, damaged from years of mistreatment. Her violet eyes were clouded with a muddled soup of emotions, though her features betrayed none of them. Her lips were forced into a permanent scowl as she, herself, scribbled on paper, not even stopping to warm her fingers. A small candle flickers on it's tiny wick, about to sputter and die. Her clothes are in a similar order to the first, well-worn and used, bearing the stains of mud and snow and holes that would have once housed moths. She takes a moment and looks down, an old pocket watch slipping out of her pocket, clicking the small button on the top to open it. Six fifty five... five minutes to closing. As the lid of the watch closed, the wooden door to the office opened, a thin woman in a well-worn coat, her clothes spoke volumes of her status, well enough to be considered middle class, but very far from rich. She appeared to be in her early thirties, much like the first woman, her muddy blonde hair was pulled into two ponytails off the back of her head, a smile plastered on her face.

The assembled people in this building were three people not so unlike you and I. The first, the harsh raven haired woman was Homura Akemi, accountant and miser, a harder woman you'll be trouble to find. When she walked past, all smiling ceased and children knew not to laugh too loud, lest they invoke her wrath with a 'humbug!'. The second, the younger woman with blue hair was an employee of Ms. Akemi, a young apprentice named Sayaka Miki. Married with a child, Sayaka worked for Ms. Akemi for long hours with little pay. Finally, the third – the muddy-haired woman who just entered was Marisa Binbou, niece to Homura and a generally nice young woman.

"A Merry Christmas to you, Aunt! Goddess save you!" The newcomer spoke, bowing. Slowly, the face of the ragged, raven-haired woman turned up from the page she scribbled and to the muddy blonde haired woman who entered. She blinked slowly, choosing her words very carefully.

"Christmas... Bah!" She barked, turning back to her page, then continued. "Humbug..." The muddy-haired woman looked shocked, almost insulted.

"Christmas, aunt? A humbug? I'm sure you don't mean that..." The raven-haired woman looked back violently to the younger woman, her eyes hard and sharp as steel.

"I do! 'Merry Christmas'..." Her voice was laced with heavy sarcasm as she spoke that. "What right do you have to be merry, Marisa? You're poor enough." The woman with the muddied hair smiled, and in a rather gay voice responded as such.

"Come, come then Aunt! What right do you have to be dismal? You're rich enough!" For a moment, it appeared as though Homura had no response to this, her eyes searching about the room for some witty response or sharp rebuttle, but found none. Suddenly, she explodes with her best answer possible.

"Humbug!" Marisa laughed at this, taking a seat across from her aunt, folding her hands at her lap.

"Oh, don't be cross, Aunt."

"What _else_ can I be when I live in a world of _fools_ such as this one!?" Homura spat indignantly, throwing the hand that held the pen to the side, her eyes focusing solely upon Marisa. "Merry Christmas she says! Out with you and your 'Merry Christmas'!" Her glare was still focused upon Marisa as she continued her rant. "What's Christmas to you but a time to pay bills with money you've not got? Huh? What's Christmas to you, but a time to find yourself another year older and not a single hour richer!? A time for freezing yourself to death and being happy for it!? If I had my way, Marisa, I'd have every single idiot who ever goes around with 'Merry Christmas' on their tongue boiled in their own fat and buried ten feet under ground with a stake of birch through their hearts!" Marisa looked hurt at this as she started searching for some worthy recompense.

"Aunt, -"

"Niece!" Homura spat out instantly. "You keep Christmas in your own way, and let me keep it in mine!"

"But you don't keep it-"

"Then let me leave it alone!" She returns to the paper and begins writing once more. "As much good as it'll do you..." She looked up once more to drive the point one last time. "As much good as it's ever done you!" The hurt in Marisa's eyes drained as she stood, filled with an unknown courage to stand up to her Aunt.

"There are many things, Aunt Akemi-san, that I might have felt good about that I've not profited from, Christmas being only one. You can be sure that each time Christmas comes around, aside from the obvious reverie that it's name and religious significance implies, I've found it to be a kind, charitable, loving time of the year! The only time of the very long year that men and women of all walks find themselves content to unlock the contents of their heart and show it to all, without fear of prejudice or persecution! To see their fellow man as no one more then other passengers on the train of life speeding relentlessly towards the grave! Therefore, Aunt Akemi-san, even if it has never put a scrap of gold in my pocket or a shred of food upon my table, I will shout it from the roof tops from sun up to sun down! A Merry Christmas to you, Aunt Akemi-san, and a many more where that's coming from! Goddess bless it, I say!" A round of fervent applause filled the office as the meek form of Sayaka began to clap fiercely for the speech that was so delivered upon her ears. A single glare from Homura was all it took to stop Sayaka's clap dead ring.

"Another squeak out of you, Miki, and you'll be keeping Christmas all year round, without a job to return to!" She turned her attention back to her niece and shook her head dismally. "You're quite the powerful speaker, Marisa... a wonder you didn't go into politics..." Undeterred, Marisa goes for her ace in the hole.

"Come, Aunt, don't be mad. Why don't you dine with us tomorrow? You and your lovely clerk, Miki-sama!" Homura's face bore a visage of calm collection, but a raging tempest within. It took naught a word from Homura for Marisa to understand her meaning. "Why not? Why do you deny me each year?"

"Why did you get married?" Homura asked grimly, her face staring mindlessly at the page on her desk. This was a question that Marisa had the answer to, and the smile on her face was all the confirmation this fact needed.

"Simple, Aunt Akemi-san. I fell in love." This causes Homura's face to only scrunch up more, her face of cruel neutrality morphing into one of intangible hate.

"Because..." She growled, hand curling into a fist. "...you fell... in love..." Her face refused to move from the page as she finished. "Good afternoon."

"You never took my invitation before I married, Aunt Akemi-san..."

"Good afternoon." She spoke with a stronger emphasis.

"I don't want anything from you, Aunt Akemi,-san I never have!"

"_Good afternoon._" Came the same release with more force.

"I am sorry with all my being that I find you so stubborn, Aunt." Marisa spoke, moving backwards towards the door. "You and I have never had a quarrel in which I have willingly been a party. It is in honor of Christmas that I make this trial against my better judgment, and I shall try until my dying breath! A very, very Merry Christmas to you, Aunt Akemi-san!"

"Good afternoon!" Came the same response.

"And a happy new year!"

"_Good! Afternoon!_" She barked as Marisa threw open the door, and without a single hostile word used the entire conversation, walked back out into the cold, where she promptly wished a similar greeting upon a passing clerk who, despite being frozen to the core from the accursed weather, was found to be infinitely warmer then Homura, as he returned her greetings with a smile. "There's another woman, Miki, with three hundred yen a day, a spouse and kids, going about like an idiot throwing a 'Merry Christmas' to anyone dumb enough to hear it!" She sighed as she continued to write on the paper. "I'll go mad before long." Retrieving the watch from her pocket once more, she checked the time. Six fifty eight... another few minutes of this and-

With a ring of the bell, the door opened once more, and two men shuffled in and bowed to Homura. The first rubbed his hands together in a fit attempt to warm them, while the other settled to throw his long white scarf over his neck. "This is Akemi and Tomoe's, I believe..." The first spoke, looking to Homura. "Do I have the pleasure of addressing Akemi-san, or Tomoe-san?" Homura stared at the first man, then spoke simply to him.

"Tomoe Mami has been dead for seven long years now... she died on this very night, as it happens." The two men look downcast at this, as if it wasn't news they were privy to. The second spoke next.

"I am sad to hear that... but no doubt her generosity and kindness is reciprocated by her surviving partner..." It was more of a question then a statement, the first picking up.

"It is common during this most festive of seasons for the well-to-do to make certain... charitable donations to the poor and destitute. Hundreds are in need of basic comforts, while thousands are in need of food and drink!"

"Are there no prisons, then?" Came Homura's chill response, her pen slowly going to the table. The first man looked very uncomfortable with how the conversation had turned. With a slow, methodical response, he nodded.

"Aye..." He spoke slowly, folding his hands at his waist. "There are, sadly, plenty of prisons..." Homura nodded before continuing her train of thought.

"And the Union Workhouses? I trust they still function?" Another slow and methodical nod from the first man.

"I wish it were different, but yes... the Union Workhouses are still in operation..." Homura gave a nod, further continuing her sour thought process.

"Good... good... I trust the Poor Law and Hearthfire Act are still in full effect then?" Both the men nodded slowly. "Most excellent. You had me worried for a moment that something might have happened to stop these worthy countermeasures from doing their wonderful jobs."

"These institutions hardly provide for the basic necessities of life, Akemi-san. In this festive time of year, we find hundreds if not thousands of people with want of food and drink and means to stay warm this cold time of year. We find that people are most generous around Christmas time, Akemi-san so..." The second man placed a paper before Homura, who spent a moment looking it over a moment. "How much can we put you down for?" Homura studied the paper and read it intently before slowly pushing it away.

"Nothing." She answered simply, going to her books.

"You wish to remain anonymous, Ake-"

"I wish to be left alone! You asked me what I wished, gentlemen, and you have received my answer! I rarely make myself merry, and I feel not so inclined to make idle people merry either! I support the establishments I have mentioned and pay more then my fair share to keep them running. If people are truly bad off, perhaps they should go there."

"Most would rather die..." One man spoke simply.

"Good!" Came Homura's growled response as her eyes focused upon the men. "If dying is what they wish, they best get to it and help decrease the surplus population littering the streets of this fine city! Besides, atop all that I-" Almost as if suddenly remembering her place, she freezes. "Excuse me... I don't know." One of the men observed that she might, which caused her to shake her head. "It's none of my business. It should be enough for any one person to know their own business, that they need not be concerned with the business of others. My business occupies me nicely, so I say to you gentlemen. Good afternoon." The two men nodded and, deciding that further pursuing the argument would get them naught, nodded, muttered a muffled good evening, and shuffled out. Homura took out her watch once more and looked it over. Seven o five... five minutes after closing. Stacking the piece of paper upon the larger stack behind her, Homura stood and reached for her hat, Sayaka taking this as a notion that it was time for her to leave as well.

"I suppose you'll want the whole day off tomorrow then, Miki?" Sayaka gave a tentative smile and nodded.

"If it's quite alright with you, Akemi-san..."

"It's not!" Homura barked. "It's not alright, and it's not fair. If I was to dock a hundred and fifty yen you'd think me unfair, yet here you are striving for me to pay you for a day of no work." She growled to herself.

"It's only once a year, ma'am..."

"Weak excuse for mugging a woman every twenty-fifth of December!" She spoke, putting her hat on. Giving a sigh, she conceded. "Fine. I suppose you must have the whole day off." Turning, she gave her a warning look. "But be here all the earlier the following morning! Do you understand me?" Sayaka piqued up, a smile crossing her otherwise dismal face.

"Yes, ma'am! I shall, ma'am!" Collecting her hat and coat, Sayaka headed quickly for the door, bowing frantically. "Merry Christmas to you, Akemi-san."

"Bah..." Homura responded instantly to Sayaka's claim, collecting her own hat and coat, setting off into the cold street. As Homura trod through the snow-capped streets, a group of carolers sings a gentle hymn of 'Goddess Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen', as a young woman, poor by the look of her, approaches the carolers.

"A beautiful song, that is. Expertly done, if I do say so myself." The leader of the carolers, a young girl with grass-green hair smiles.

"Thank you very much, ma'am."

"Please, sing another if you would." The caroler leader turns to her troupe and cues another song, the same, as a matter of fact, as the woman notices Homura. "Ah... Akemi-san... just the woman I wanted to see!"

"Do you have your loan payment, then?" Homura responded with an unfeeling cold, the woman wringing her hands before her.

"I would actually like to speak to you about that, Akemi-san."

"What is there to talk about, Kirsten? You either have the money, or you do not." Kirsten, the young woman with black hair smiles nervously.

"I know I owe you a considerable amount of money, Akemi-san, and I can-"

"You've missed three payments."

"For which I am dreadfully sorry about, but-"

"If you are truly sorry, then remedy the situation by making your payments current." Homura continued, walking along the path without lifting her head.

"I'm afraid I can't at the time... I need more time..." Homura gave an 'ah' sound as she spoke these words.

"And we get to the bulk of the matter. You need more time, Kirsten, and I need my money."

"I'm... aware of that, ma'am, but-"

"Did you not agree to the terms of the loan?" Homura mused.

"Yes, I did but-"

"And did you not sign a paper, promising me that you would pay the loan back?"

"I most certainly did, it's just I-"

"I feel I have been more then reasonable in waiting as long as I have, Kirsten, have I not?"

"You have indeed, ma'am, it's just that-"

"You expect me to give you more time, while I get absolutely nothing in return? Kirsten, are you aware you could easily be sent to prison for this?" Kirsten swallowed hard at this, trying to keep up with Homura's long strides.

"I... most certainly am, ma'am. I just need more time." Homura nodded to this.

"You have it then."

"Thank you, Akemi-san!"

"You have until tomorrow to pay me." Kirsten paled, her smile fading.

"T-tomorrow? But... Akemi-san, that's Christmas Day!"

"I am literate enough to read the calander, Kirsten. What is your point?"

"Where am I going to find money on Christmas Day?" Homura paused before her apartment.

"You asked for more time, Kirsten, I have given it to you. It is no concern of mine where you find the money on what day of the year. All that matters is you pay me what I am owed in the time allotted. I have given you until tomorrow, see to it that I have the money by tomorrow at noon, or you most assuredly will find yourself in prison this time tomorrow. Good day." Convinced that this line of conversation would only further sour Homura's mood, Kirsten mused a hushed 'good day' and went about her way. Grumbling to herself, the aged miser fumbles about her coat pockets for the key to her apartment, climbing the slippery stairs up to her door. There, set in the face of the door, the solid gold door knocker, fashioned in the shape of a ouroboros, begins to shift and flex, the ring breaking into two bars, slowly morphing into a face of a woman, aged with time and trial. As Homura stares at the door knocker changing before her, she blinks and leans in, straining against the fading light. The face's eyes are closed as Homura speaks.

"Tomoe-san?" As these words leave her mouth, the face's eyes open, it's mouth emitting a horrifying screech, causing Homura to stagger back and tumble down the stairs. The rattled Homura quickly recovers and stares in shock at the door knocker, which has reverted to it's previous state. Blinking twice, Homura utters only one word. "Bah..."

With the door firmly locked behind her, Homura makes for the stares, the dimly lit foyer showing her no light as she fumbles up the stairs, towards her chambers. Her room is dark, no lights are on to shine joy on this otherwise miserable scene. Tossing a log on the dying fire, Homura takes a spoon from the kettle before the fire and serves up a bowl of runny, disgusting gruel, sitting back in the vast armchair. Homura sits, in the dim room, a bowl of inadequete mush in her hands, slowly picking at it as the fire suddenly goes out. Homura mumbles something incoherent about the fire wood being out to drain her money as well, before a rattle, distant and faint at first, assails her ears. Pausing, she puts the bowl on the small table beside her and looks around. "Hello?" She calls into the darkness. "Who's there?" As she speaks, the rattling grows in both volume and tenacity, as if a creature comprised of metal links is sprinting full gait at her. As soon as the sound began, it ends, the last vestiges of the rattle sounding as though it was directly out her door.

With a massive crash, the wooden door out of her room is thrown open with a great force, and through the smoke and mist comes a tall figure of a woman, fully figured and once-beautiful, her gray-blonde hair pulled into two drills off the sides of her head, her amber eyes foggy and filled with regret and tears. Homura yelps at the sight, curling farther into her chair as she stares at the newcomer.

"What..." She starts, assessing the figure as it fails to move. "What do you want with me?" The figure, ethereal and nearly transparent, takes another step into the room, a tangled mass of chains and locks hanging off her body, takes a raspy breath in, and speaks in an uncannily sweet voice.

"Much." It speaks simply.

"Who are you, then? Speak up." Homura continues, relaxed but still on guard.

"A poor choice of questions. Ask me who I _was_." Homura rolls her eyes at this and concedes.

"Fine then. Who _were_ you?" Another raspy breath.

"When I still drew life, I was your partner. Mami Tomoe."

"Impossible. Tomoe-san died seven years ago."

"This very day... if I recall correctly..." The spirited visage of Mami responded. Homura's eyes danced across her body, the chains and locks and safes and vaults dangling from most of her body unsettling to the eyes of Homura Akemi.

"What is it you want?"

"'What I want' does not matter any longer, Akemi-san. I am not here for my own good. I am here for your own."

"My own good? What could you offer me that I do not already have?"

"Salvation." Came her simple response, Homura unable to pry her eyes from the chains.

"What... what is the significance of the chains?" Mami lifted her left arm, a heavy roll of chain lifting with it.

"The chain? Look at it, Akemi-san. Study each and every aspect of it. Locks... and vaults. Golden coins and silver bars. I have spent my entire life forging this chain... I forged it each and every day as I sat, laboring in that office, counting and measuring... writing and stealing. Greed, Akemi Homura. Greed and wealth. Feel them... know them. If only you could see what I do. View your chain with your own eyes. Your chain was as long as this... as heavy as this I wear seven years ago. It is now so much longer... so much heavier, and even now you labor to continue to build it. You cannot feel it's weight. You cannot see it's length. But the day you pass, the day the world no longer counts Akemi Homura among the living... that is the day you shall feel it's weight, wear it's length. For all time." Homura's eyes were wide, concern filling her every being.

"Please, Tomoe-san... I've done nothing but be a good business woman all my life... you know that."

"Aye. A good business woman. But a poor excuse for a woman. You pry money from those that have none, and continue to spit upon those less fortunate then yourself. A mistake I made, Akemi-san, and I will not have you living in my own hell. I have spent all those years in silent affection for you, Akemi-san, and I will not stand by as you throw your soul away."

"Please... _please_ Tomoe-san, speak some comfort, some kind words to me... I need them..." Mami's transparent face blinked slowly.

"I have no comfort to give."

"Then why are you here?"

"To offer you hope." Homura pauses and blinks.

"Hope?" She speaks dryly. "What hope could you offer me, where you could not offer comfort?"

"On this night, you shall be visited by three Witches." Homura ceases, her face going pale, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"Is... that the hope you spoke of? My 'salvation'?"

"It is." Homura gave a little nod and slipped from her chair.

"I'll pass."

"Then you shall forever be forced to walk where I do, burdened for all eternity by your greed, you selfishness." Reaching a hand out, Mami motioned to touch Homura, who reacted.

"No... no no no no no and no. And nothing you can say can change my mind." The sudden movement of Mami's hand back to her side caused something in her to... pop. Homura hadn't noticed this before, but the strange chain around her neck seemed more... important.

"If my words cannot sway you... perhaps your own eyes can." Putting a hand on Homura's shoulder, Mami slowly walked her to the window, throwing it open with a hand motion. "Look outside, Akemi-san. Do you see them?" Watching out the window, Homura spied floating specter after floating specter, wailing and moaning as a few tried desperately to reach out to a poor woman and her child, freezing on the streets, trying to hand them coin, comfort or warmth. The woman and her child paid them no heed, as if they didn't exist.

"This is not me, Tomoe-san... I'm... I'm only trying to get ahead... just like you when-" Another pop came from Mami behind Homura as Homura turned, looking to her face.

A shrill cry left her lips as she spied Mami, her head removed from her shoulders, held in her hand like one would hold a lantern. "Is this what you want, Akemi-san? Your body to reflect your spirit? Thirty long years I spent trying to 'get ahead' and this is my payment! Mutilated and ravaged beyond all recognition! Savaged, torn and broken!" It was true, that even in her middle ages, Mami still had her beauty until the day she died and, now that she truly looked, this dead echo held nothing of Tomoe-san's previous attractiveness, her body scarred, flesh rended from bone, her hair damaged and frayed, clothes torn nearly to ribbons. "In death, I serve the sentence I earned in life, and I shall pay it for the rest of eternity!" Her cold, hard voice softened for a time. "I do not want that for you."

Turning, the ghost of Mami walked to the door, her head still held facing Homura. "Expect the first Witch when the clock strikes one. The second an hour hence, and the third on the third stroke. Look for me no longer, Akemi-san, for I must continue to wander. Take my words and what you have seen to heart, Akemi-san, lest you and I share the same fate."

"Tomoe-san... don't leave me! Tomoe-san! Tomoe-san!"

"Good-bye... Akemi-san." The ghost turned the corner through the door, and as if it was all a figment of her imagination, was gone from sight. As Homura stood stunned, the large clock in her room began to chime. And chime. And chime.

"Ten... eleven... twelve?" It can't be midnight already? T'was just evening and now..." Another chime. "Half past? Already?" Finally, the clock chimes one. Rushing to the window, Homura looked out. "One AM... the first Witch was to come at one... But where..." Homura turned to her bed, seeing a small figure, almost small enough to be a doll, sitting upon her bed, her orange pants and tan vest covered barely by a long, flowing red cloak, her hands hidden behind her cloak's massive sleeves, her pink hair styled to look very much like a candy wrapper, a black and orange polkadotted hood pulled over her head. "What..." If it were not for the fact the small doll-like figure moved ever so slightly, one would be lothe to even consider it alive. "Are... are you the Witch's whose arrival was spoken of?" The doll's massive black dot eyes blinked and she nodded.

"I am." Her voice was sweet and shrill, but imposing.

"Who... or what are you?" Homura continued, taking a step forward, the little doll getting to her tiny feet.

"My name is Charlotte. I am the Witch of Christmas Past." Homura swallowed hard.

"Distant past?" The Witch giggled sweetly.

"No silly. _Your_ past." Hopping off his bed, she waddled over to the window and, with a long sleeve, reached up to the window sil, hoisting herself up. "Come, Akemi-san."

"Wait... why are you here? What purpose do you serve?" Another giggle.

"I am here for your welfare." Homura scoffed at this, rolling her eyes.

"Beg your pardon and forgive my brashness, but I believe what would be more conducive to my welfare would be a good night's undisturbed rest." Her little black eyes blinked slowly as she tilted her head a bit to the right.

"Very well. I am here for your reformation, then." She motioned back to the window. "Come."

"W-Witch... I am but mortal, and I am liable to fall. Can... can we not take the door?" She held out a sleeved hand to Homura, her tiny mouth twisting into a smile.

"With but a single touch of me, and you shall fly through the air as though you were a girl again." Homura was timid at first, holding a hand out gently, then gripping the little doll's sleeves betwixt two fingers gingerly, as though she were made of porcelain and liable to break. With a titter, the little doll leapt out the window, dragging Homura behind her. The elder raven haired woman released a shrill cry as she flew through the air, her eyes pressed tight together. "You can open your eyes. I assure you, you shan't fall." Slowly, Homura's eyes opened to the city rushing by her at near insane speeds. She looked up to the horizon, where a single star shimmered brilliantly in the distance, seeming to grow closer towards the pair. With her free hand, Homura shielded her eyes from the bright flash, and when she opened them once more, she found herself ankle-deep in snow, along a winding forested path. Homura's eyes opened wide as she took in the sights. A group of girls sprinted past the pair, laughing and giggling with Chirstmas glee.

"Goddess..." Homura mused, taken aback.

"You know this place, then?" Charlotte's little voice piqued up.

"Know it? I can find my way back here blindfolded and limp!" Homura exclaimed, her eyes further growing as the group of girls huddled up. "I... I know those girls! That's Oktavia Seckendorff! And – and... Goddess, Candy!? Little Candelero! Goddess, I've not seen them in years! Girls! Girls, over here!" Charlotte gave a condescending 'tsk' of her mouth as she shook her head.

"They cannot hear you, Akemi-san. They are simply shadows of what has happened." Homura's smile faded, Charlotte motioning towards the wooden school house at the far end of the path. The pair sloshed through the slush, small tufts of snow flying before them. Charlotte's little arm pushed open the door to the small schoolhouse, a young black haired girl sitting at a desk, all others empty about her, shivering to the core.

"You look so sad, Akemi-san..." Charlotte mused as they crossed the threshold. Charlotte lept up onto the table as Homura sat across from her younger self.

"My mother died giving birth to my sister..." Homura glowered, her eyes downcast. "I always thought my father blamed me for it... my sister was too young to understand, and he was never at fault for anything... so the logical answer was it was my fault. Chirstmas was never a particularly happy time of year for us..." Charlotte nodded. The door they had previously entered exploded, wood slamming hard against wood.

"Nee-chan!" A voice called, and through the open door, a young red-headed girl bounded in, arms outstretched at her side as she ran, the largest smile ever upon her lips. Homura, both versions, stared in awe at the girl coming in, her crimson eyes closed tight as she laughed.

"Kyouko..." The graying Homura mused, unable to believe her eyes.

"Kyouko!" The younger Homura smiled, throwing herself from her seat and running to hug her sister. "What are you doing here?" Kyouko's smile never faded as she hugged her sister tight. She scoffed as she got a closer look at her. "Goddess, how you've grown so! You're practically a woman now!"

"Nee-chan! Homu-nee, I've come to bring you home!" The younger Homura, purple eyes so vibrant and full of youthful spirit, recoiled at the words her sister spoke. "I mean it! Father... he's changed so much! He was in the most pleasant mood just last night, so I chanced asked him if you might come home! And he said yes! He sent me to collect you! We're going to spend all Christmas together, as a family again! And! And! He's arranged an apprenticeship for you! You're to be a grown woman now!" Homura stood, staring in marred awe at the words leaving her sister's mouth. "But before any of that, Nee-chan, we get to be a family again... and you and I have all Christmas to catch up and play in the snow! You'll never have to visit this dreadful place again!" Tears found their way into young Homura's eyes as she pulled her sister into the tightest hug in history.

Charlotte broke the revery in Homura's eyes with more words. "Your sister... she was such a frail and fragile little thing, was she not? Oft bed-ridden and ill, but she was so kind..."

"Aye..." Homura responded, her voice cracking with some unknown emotion. "She was all heart, even until... until..." She shook her head and drove the thoughts back into the inky abyss from which they spawned. Kyouko tugged Homura towards the door.

"Come on, Nee-chan! Pack your things and let's go! The car's waiting for us!" Homura smiled and nodded, going to pack.

"She died a young woman, did she not?" Charlotte asked, her little black eyes never leaving Homura's misty purple ones. Homura nodded mournfully in agreeance. "She died in childbirth, if I am not mistaken. She is survived by her only child, correct?" Another nod.

"A daughter. My niece, Marisa Binbou-san..." Homura seemed mournful and listful at the thought.

"Are... are you sure? About father?"

"Yes, of course! He's become the kindest man I know!"

"Who will I be apprenticing with?"

"You know Mr. Kaname-sama? He runs the warehouse on Hatchikoma. He and his wife are looking for a new clerk, and father thought it would be best for you to find a career."

"Marisa is your niece, Homura. Your one and only surviving family member..."

"Aye... she is..." Charlotte nodded and opened her hand as the scenery fizzled.

"Come. Let us see another Christmas." A pause as Homura found herself in a warehouse, cloth and other imports stacked floor-to-ceiling. Across from her sat a lithe, brown-haired man with glasses and a kind face. He was busy at work making notes in a book.

"Goddess be good, it's Kaname-senpai... Senpai's alive again!" Kaname looks up from his work and stretches deeply, sighing as he finishes. He claps his hand three times and snatches the attention of a young Homura and a lively looking Mami Tomoe. "Goddess..." Homura's voice drops off as she locks eyes with Mami, her blonde drills bobbing gently as she looks up.

"That's Tomoe-san... even back then, she and I were the best of friends..."

"No more work this night, ladies!" Kaname bellows, the two girls nodding. "Come! It is Christmas, and not a time for work, but celebration! Help me move all this nonsense away, and we can celebrate Christmas as it should be celebrated!" Mami and Homura both spring from their chairs and grasp at the table in the middle, helping Kaname move it away to a corner. From upstairs comes a woman with brilliant purple hair, a young pink-haired woman helping move a long table to the center. Soon, another girl, this one with soft brown hair like Kaname, begins placing plates and silverware on the table as Junko, Kaname's wife, retreats back upstairs and returns a moment later with a large bottle of wine and several glasses.

"Tomohisa-senpai always found time to throw a party. Birthdays, Christmas, that man would have to find a reason not to throw a party.."

"Why does it bring a smile to your face as such, Akemi-san?" Charlotte mused. "It is an insignificant thing, to make these silly fools feel joyous on such a day..."

"_Silly!? Fools?!_" Homura sounded indignant. "You don't understand, Witch. Kaname-senpai alone held the power to make us happy or unhappy... to make work pleasant or miserable, with simply a look, or by the manner he addresses us! A thousand-thousand of these 'silly things' he does add up to more then their base value! Even if they cost him nothing, to Tomoe-san and I, they were as a fortune to u-" Homura froze, her face going painful for a moment.

"Something the matter, Akemi-san?" Charlotte asked.

"Erm... n-no..." She responded gently. "I just... I just had an urge to say a word or two to my clerk, is all." Homura watched as her younger form, a teenager by the looks of her, walked confidently over to the pink-haired girl who helped Junko set up. She was gayly setting a table up as Homura tapped her on the shoulder. Though she could hear no words, Homura remember the conversation clear as day. Her younger self held a hand out formally to her, asking the pink-haired girl if she'd like to dance. She stammered for a moment before inevitably agreeing. Taking Homura's hand, the elder Homura looked down at her same hand, feeling almost as if her skin was still in her own."

"That is Kaname-san's daughter, yes? Madoka, I believe her name was?" Homura nodded mechanically.

"Madoka was..." Homura began, unable to pry herself away from the sight of the pair of them dancing, Madoka's pink house-dress spinning around and around like a cyclone. The pair looked happy... truly.

"Come, Akemi-san. There is yet one more shadow I must show you." With another wave of her hand, the scene disappeared, replaced by a bridge Homura knew all too well. The clear Mitakiharan river ran under the bridge, snow capping the grass and trees as a fine sheen of ice begins to cling to the water's surface. Homura is older now, the prime of her life. Her face is hard and set, as though she is a changed woman. An older Madoka stands before Homura, her hands clenched deeply into Homura's. Before the elder Homura could ask a question, Madoka begins.

"I know my words will mean little to you, Homura-chan..." Her voice was still as pure as the last she remembered. "...but I can see another idol has replaced me... threw me from my throne from on-high, and sat upon my ivory throne of your love... A cold, emotionless idol if ever there was one but..." She sniffed and rubbed the back of her gloved hand against her eyes, banishing her tears. "...but if it makes you as happy as I would have striven to make you... then I shall gladly step away and allow it to take you from me... and I will have no reason to cry..."

"Of what idol do you speak, Madoka-chan?" Homura muses, a look of confusion upon her face. Madoka's fingers slipped a little from Homura's.

"A golden one... an idol of currency and of empty love." Homura scoffed a bit, her voice rough.

"A double-standard if ever there be one!" She responded forcefully. "Society condones the poor with pitchfork and torch, however is just as quick to condone the soul who strives to see to her own financial security." Madoka shook her head.

"There it is, Homura-chan... as plain as the eyes I love so much... or the lips I long to kiss once more..." Madoka turned her gaze down. "You fear the world, and society. Your care so much for it's opinion of you, you throw all away so that you can be accepted, loved. You care so much for money, I have watched each and every one of your pure virtues crumble away.. and when the last one fades, when you are left with nothing more then a choice... I fear it shall end poorly..."

"My feelings towards you have not changed, Madoka-chan!" Homura practically yelled, her grip tightening as Madoka's fingers pulled just a bit more out. "I still love you as passionately and as vibrantly as the day I met you... my promise to you is-"

"Old... Homura-chan. We made that promise when we were poor and stupid. We were happy... willing to remain such until we changed our fortunes... _together_." There came a pause as Madoka shifted uncomfortably. "Tell me, Homura-chan, and tell me truthfully." There came another pause as Homura swallowed. "If this had not happened, if you had not found your fortune... would you still seek me out? A poor, dower-less girl with nothing to bring to her wedding day then a smile and her undying love for the woman who holds her heart? Would you seek me at the tallest tower of the darkest castle in the farthest reaches of the world? Would you?" Homura paused, her mouth hung agape, unable to answer the question presented to her. Madoka smiled a dismal, defeated smile.

"It is as I feared." She spoke simply. Her fingers finally came out of Homura's hands and fell to her side. "I can shower you with my love, but if the luster of my love is shadowed by the brilliant shine of gold in your hands, then there is nothing I can do to change you." Tears formed in the eyes of both Homura's eyes, the younger's eyes clouding over. "Oh, Homura-chan... I know you're sad now... you'll cry for me... but I have no doubt that in time... you'll forget about me. I'll fade away into your mind as everything else always does. You'll forget my face, my name and my voice, and find comfort in your money. You will forget about me, Homura-chan... but know that I have carved your name in my heart, and there will never be another who will take your place." She turned and started to walk, her footsteps rejected by even the snow.

The sound of knees falling to the wooden bridge en masse drew Charlotte's eyes to both Homura's. The younger one wailing in pain at her loss, tears splattering the snow as she held her head in pure agony. The elder Homura collapsed to her hands and knees, her own tears finally resurfacing.

"Why... Witch... why do you show me this? Do you delight in my torment!?"

"She died shortly after that, did she not? Of a broken heart, I believe they said." Homura only wailed louder as her older self stifled a shout of pain. "I do not delight in your torment, Akemi-san. It has happened. I can no sooner change the past then you."

"Take me home..."

"There is one more shadow you must see."

"_Take me home, Witch!_" Charlotte smiled cutely and shook her head.

"In time." With a final wave of her hand, the bridge and agonized Homura vanished, replaced by a familiar scene. It was Homura's business. In the dying light of the fire, Homura could see a seven-year younger version of herself, working late into the night. Two men in white suits strolled by, pipes in their hands. "Goddess, man. Look at that." One spoke, stopping before her business, looking in.

"Bugger all, is that Akemi-san? What is she doing working this late?"

"Aye, and with her partner in the hospital, no less." The first nodded to the second's words.

"I heard about that! Poor lass could drop dead at a moment's notice, and her partner prioritizes money over friendship!" The first thought for a moment. "Look at the poor girl, my boy. There she sits, alone by fire-light scribbling numbers day in and day out... she's alone, and if she doesn't change soon, she may verily be truly alone in the world."

"Poor wretch..." The men turned and started off once more.

"No more, Witch..." Homura growled, unable to rouse herself from her knees. "Show me no more, I can hear no more!" The little doll plopped herself in front of Homura and shook her head.

"These are merely shadows, Akemi-san. Please, do not blame me, for they have already happened." Falling completely to her stomach, Homura grappled onto her tiny clothes, begging and pleading.

"Please, Witch! Take me back to my bed, fly me home! I wish to berid of this place as a bad nightmare! Bother me no longer!" On her last words, Homura startled herself awake, clinging onto her bed sheets for dear life. She had found herself in her nightgown and awoken from what appeared to be a dream. She looked about for a time, her face reflecting the face of woman who much appeared to be in a delirium. "Was that... a dream?" She asked. Her head fell back to her pillow, barely having the chance to close her eyes when a soft light and music filled her ears. Cracking an eye open, she spied a light coming from under her bedroom door. Reluctantly, she threw herself from bed and moved to the door. Opening it, the music exploded in volume and for a precious few seconds, Homura found herself blinded.

"Ahahahahahahaha!" Came a shrill voice, echoing gently in Homura's ears as it laughed. "Come in! Come in!" The voice was female, Homura's vision slowly recovering from the flash. "Come in, and know me better, lass." Finally berid of the light, Homura saw whom held the voice. Standing in the well-lit room was a woman of vast beauty, her body coated in a lovely, intricate blue dress. In one hand, she held a burning torch, a gentle sparkle of dust situating in the basin of her blazing flame. Her mouth on her pale face curled into a smile, and her blue eyes sparkled. "Have you ever seen another of my kind before, Akemi-san? Ahahaha! I'd bet not!"

"No, Witch, I have not... are you..."

"The Witch of Christmas Present, yes! You may call me Walpurgis. Have you met any of my brothers or sisters?"

"No, Witch... have you many siblings?"

"Oh, aye! Two-thousand and fourteen of them!"

"Such a family you have, Witch." Walpurgis grinned and advanced, seeming to float on her lithe feet.

"Aye! Come, we have much to do this night, and precious little time to do it in!" She held her hand out, the massive blue dress she wore just barely showing her alabaster skin beneath the ruby glow of her bracelets. "Take hold of my dress, Akemi-san. I have much to show you." Homura steeled herself and took a firmer hold on the Witch's robes then the previous one's. Raising her blazing torch, she slammed it upon the ground, the scene vanishing. The pair find themselves walking amongst the commonfolk of Mitakihara, the tall Witch gently pinching some of the dust from her torch and sprinkling it upon the heads of the smallfolk.

"If I may ask, Witch, of what do you sprinkle upon them?" The brillaint eyes of the Witch lit up at the question.

"'Tis Human Decency, my dear lass! I give of it freely and oft! Though it is but a small gesture, I see no need to spare myself the trouble, if it spares another trouble in my stead."

"Are you saying you... go out of your way to..."

"Help others, yes! 'Tis a noble thing to think of others first, and to help those who need it. Kindness is sweet to all, Akemi-san, however to the poor, it is all the sweeter..." As if to emphasis the point, the Witch came to a stop near a girl, dressed in dirty clothes and wearing no shoes as she sat upon the cold concrete. Reaching into the torch once more, she took a handful of the dust and sprinkled it upon the girl, and a passing stranger. Homura watched as the stranger looked down upon the girl and smiled, removed his cloak and placed it around the girl's shoulders. The little girl's eyes glowed a brilliant green as she received this kindness.

"Thank you, kind sir." She spoke gently, snuggling into the jacket's warmth. The man smiled and folded his arms over his chest.

"Think nothing of it. Try to have a merry Christmas, my dear." The girl laughed and nodded, her dismal visage lighting up with some unknown hope.

"I shall, sir! Thank you very much once again."

"Why did he do that?" Homura mused. "He's as likely to die of cold as she."

"Aye, but he has the ability to find another coat. To him, coats are cheap. He can afford to be kind with her." Walpurgis motioned with her torch. "Come, there is someplace I must show you." The pair goes through the street, pass through a fog bank and come to a large slum building, dozens upon dozens of cramped apartment rooms are stacked as high as Homura can bear to see above her.

"What is this? Slums? Why do you bring me here, Witch?"

"I bring you not here, Akemi-san, but here, fifteen flights up!" As if snagged by an elevator, the pair find themselves brought up fifteen stories to the fifteenth floor, where they phase effortlessly through the wall. Assailing Homura's sights is a large family, five strong, cuddled together in a small one-bedroom apartment with a tiny kitchenette supporting the group. The scents of cooking fowl fill the air as a small pot bubbles on the fire place. An aged man, hair grayed either through age or naturally Homura couldn't tell, stands over a stove and cooks, waving a spatula before him to act as a fan. He turns to one of the girls in the room, a young-looking one with raven hair sitting at the small table.

"Have you heard any word from Olivia, dear Elsa?" The man asks the raven-haired girl.

"No, father. I'm afraid not. Last she spoke of it, she still had some work to do at the baker's this morning, clean up, if I'm not mistaken." The man shook his head and sighed.

"Well... so long as she arrives before your mother gets home, I guess..." The door opens and in bounds a red headed girl with a smile on her face, and age lines betraying her youthful spirit.

"Father! I'm home!" The girl cries, taking a seat at the table, across from Kirsten.

"Olivia! There you are, dear! Your mother and sister should be returning from church any moment now."

"'Livia! 'Livia!" Another younger girl spoke, her hair a pale white. "Hide in the closet, and let's prank mommy!"

"Jaina, you know how much your mother ill-likes pranks-" The words of her father fell upon deaf ears as Jaina and Masami, the two youngest girls, ushered their elder sister into the closet and closed the door, giggling like little ragamuffins. Almost as if on cue, the door opened once more, and the form of Sayaka Miki came through, a young black-haired girl upon her shoulder and a pair of tiny crutches in her other hand.

"Miki! That's... that's my clerk, Miki... she lives in this... dump?"

"You would expect less? Perhaps you could survive on three hundred yen a day, a woman with a house her own and no taxes to speak of... but to your clerk and those around you? Three hundred a day is barely enough to live. What precious money they have left once their bills and rent are paid must be painfully rationed for food. Look, Akemi-san. There are seven who share this small apartment. _Seven_! A single bed for the parents, and small bedrolls for the kids. How can they continue to survive like this.

"Mother!" Came Jaina as she sprinted the short distance to hug her mother. The black-haired girl upon her shoulder was placed on the ground, Sayaka handing her the crutches.

"Gretchen! Gretchen, you must come smell the pudding! It smells divine!" Masami took hold of Gretchen's arm and helped her towards the fireplace.

"How was service this morning, dear?" The man asked, kissing Sayaka on the cheek.

"Ah, it was beautiful, Kyosuke." Sayaka smiled. "I believe everyone there is empowered by little Gretchen's smile. I think the Goddess has blessed us, dear, really." Kyosuke smiled and hugged Sayaka.

"Come, you've had a long day Sayaka. Have a seat, dinner is almost ready. You should see the goose Masami and Jaina picked out.

"It was mostly nee-chan!" Came Jaina's additon. "I didn't do much."

"Oh, nonsense, Jaina... you helped!" Masami, clearly the older if not by much more then a year, smiled. Opening the small oven door, he drew a small goose, probably no more then six or seven pounds, and placed it upon the table. Sayaka took in deep of it's divine smell and smiled.

"Kyosuke, love... you've out-done yourself once more. Sage and rosemary... you've used herbs perfectly once more." She repaid her husband with a kiss to the lips and a smile. "Come, children! Help Gretchen to the table and let's eat!"

"That goose... it's so tiny... how can a bird of that size possibly feed all seven?"

"It does not." They watched as Kyosuke poured small glasses of water from a half-empty bottle and passed them around. "However, like every year, they shall make do."

"Her daughter, Gretchen... I hadn't an idea she was crippled so." Homura faced the Witch, her lively face starting to age and her hair starting to gray.

"Aye, and why should you? You speak so little to Miki-san. I'm surprised you know a thing about her!" Homura locked eyes with the happy-looking Gretchen, her body so small and frail, both legs completely useless. "Will... will she live?" The Witch closed her fading eyes and shook her head.

"I see an empty seat by the fire, and two mourned crutches gathering dust in a corner. If nothing changes, I shall be the last of my siblings to gaze upon young Gretchen Miki." Homura's eyes went wide.

"No... say it isn't so, Witch! She... she cannot die!"

"And why not!?" Came Walpurgis' harsh response, eyes locking with Homura's. "If dying is what they wish, they best get to it and help decrease the surplus population littering the streets of this fine city!" Homura's own words resurfaced horrifically to slap her in the face. She stood, mouth agape as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat.

"That's not fair, Witch... to use my own words against me..."

"I do, and I shall do again! Perhaps, in the future, if it so _behooves you,_ you shall keep your tongue in check until you realize who the 'surplus population' is, and where it is! Who are you to decide who deserves to live, and who shall be condemned to death?! You are not the Goddess, and I would not be so bold as to pretend to know her devices! You may find when you are no longer of this realm, and should you be decent enough to bask in her glory, take men and women such as yourself are less deserving to live then a thousand-thousand Gretchen Mikis." Homura was wounded, unable to speak further.

"I would like to propose a toast." Sayaka spoke up, standing with glass in hand. "I would like to dedicate this meal to the one who made it possible, who, through her gracious heart, has allowed us to live our lives to the fullest. To Akemi Homura-san." Kyosuke practically gagged when these words left Sayaka's mouth.

"Sayaka, dear, have you lost your mind?! Akemi-san hardly deserves our thanks, least of all our _praise_!"

"Kyosuke, dear, I know you don't like it, but it is because of her we can eat... she is the founder of our feast..."

"Founder of the feast indeed! I wish her here this moment so I may give her a feast of my fist!" Sayaka looked wounded, and moved to control Kyosuke.

"Honey... the children... It's Christmas Day..."

"It should be Christmas when one would have the stones to propose a toast to such a cruel, unfeeling, miserable miser of a woman such as Akemi Homura-san!" He turned to Sayaka. "Words I feel I need not to tell you, Sayaka, as you know first-hand."

"Kyosuke, love... try to be charitable." Kyosuke crossed his arms indignantly and turned away, however came back seconds later and sighed.

"Fine. I shall drink to her health for your sake, and the day's, not hers." Homura watched him swallow a rock into his stomach and raise a glass. "To Akemi Homura-san... A long, fufilling life to her on this day, and I wish her the best of happiness in all she tries." Homura could tell he was forcing these words out, that each was a nail he was forced to swallow. The children all raise their paltry glasses and say in choir 'To Akemi Homura-san!' and drink. A weight sinks into Homura's chest.

The scene before them vanishes once more as they are shown a new house. Though far from upper class such as Homura has, it is obvious that this house belongs to someone with some form of wealth. Walpurgis and Homura once more phase through the wall and Homura smiles as she sees a familiar face.

"She didn't!" Came a voice alien to Homura. Standing in the room, goblet in hand, was Marisa, Homura's niece.

"She most certainly did. Can you imagine it? Christmas? A _humbug_?" Marisa sipped from her glass. "Perhaps the worst part about it, was she _believed_ it, too!" The crowd laughed.

"Shame upon her, Marisa." Came a voice to her side.

"Oh, nonsense, Kazuko!" Marisa smiled. "She's actually quite the comical old codger. Besides, her desires not to spend Christmas with me carry their own punishment. Who is truly missing out? Me? I should think not. I spend this day with those who love me, and whom I love, and what does my dear Aunt do? Sit before a fire and scarf down meager meals." She took a drink and shook her head onc finished. "I, personally, have no ill-will towards her."

"She is rather rich though, Marisa... or at least you always tell me so." Came Kazuko's addition.

"Oh, aye, frightfully so. However, what use does her wealth have? She stores it and counts it. She does not make herself merry or even _comfortable_ with it. Needless to say, I highly doubt he would ever condone making _us_ merry with it, either." A soft rumble of laughter rolled through the room.

"Well, you'll find no pity for her in me, that's for sure."

"Oh, contrare, my dear." Marisa mused. "I have nothing _but_ pity for her. Poor girl got it into her head to hate us, hate me, and she won't come dine with us. I shall continue to offer Aunt Akemi-san the option to come join us for dinner year after year, and I daresay eventually, I'll get through to her that I'm not a bad lass." She paused as she took a drink. "Come to think, I believe I may have cracked the old codger this year. I believe if she plans on showing up at all, I believe it shall be this year or no year." Another small laugh echoed in the room. "Ah, but the old girl's given us some fine enjoyment over the years, especially during Christmas time, so I feel it's only fair to drink to her health! Here's to Aunt Akemi-san!" She held her glass up, which everyone copied and echoed 'to Akemi-san'. Homura, in awe, hung her head.

"I should be rather beside myself with anger to learn my own niece is gathering enjoyment and having a laugh at my expense, but I suppose she is correct, and I cannot fault her." She turned to see Walpurgis, who was now aged to almost the point of death, smile.

"Indeed she has."

"Why are you withered so, Witch?" Walpurgis smiled and took the last of her dust, throwing it on the gathering of gaity.

"Sadly, none of my brothers or sisters last very long. We are fleeing, much like the time of year. We are born, we do our work to better mankind and, just like all fleeting moments, we must end. Though our bodies fade and we are gone, we are never forgotten. That girl... she will thank that man for his coat until the day she dies. Sayaka Miki-san will thank you for putting food on her table until _you_ die, at which point, she will provide for another. Your niece will thank you for giving her a chance every year, even if you do not accept. It is not what we get for being kind that matters, it is how we feel. A kind word to the right person and neither shall go cold again." Homura heard a growling from beneath the Witch's massive blue skirt, a pale hand sticking out from below.

"Witch... if I may but... what is that from below your skirt... is that a hand or... or a claw?" Without a word, Walpurgis gathered her dress and pulled it up high. Recoiling from the light were two pale children, their eyes crimson and furious. One was a boy, the other a girl. They wore tattered clothes, dirty and shredded to ribbons, and clung feverishly to Walpurgis' legs. "Are... are they yours?"

"Nay!" Walpurgis belted. "They are yours! They are humanity's. The boy is Ignorance... the girl, Want. Beware them both, Akemi-san, but above all else, beware the boy. For it is in the boy's blood that doom is written, and it will be with his blood that thousands shall die."

"No..." Homura took a step back.

"Deny it! I dare you! Lest the writing in his blood be erased, by all mankind, it is by your own ignorance that shall spell the end for your people!"

"Are there no resources for them? No homes?"

"Are there no prisons? Are there no workhouses!?" Homura recoiled again.

"No..."

"Are there no prisons!?" Her words echoed as Homura clutched her ears, trying in vain to block it out. "Are there no workhouses!?"

"No!" She repeated.

"_Are there no prisons?! Are there no workhouses!?_"

"_NOOOOOOO!_" She cried, waking herself up once more. She sat upon her bed, dazed and confused. Once more, she found herself in her bed, holding her head as though in great pain. She was pale and sweating profusely. She looks about and settles back into bed, giving a half-hearted 'humbug', though she scarey believed it herself.

As her eyes closed once more, there came a crack of thunder, Homura springing out of bed. She looked about, nothing to speak of in her bland bedroom. She went to the window where the first Witch had taken her and looked out. Nothing except the dead, quiet Mitakiharan streets. She looked to the door the second Witch had visited her through. No light poured from beneath it, and it was firmly locked. Convinced the whole thing had been a sleep-deprived dream, she turned to go back to bed. As she turned, she came face-to-face with a figure taller then her and draped in a cloak of a pitch color, features hidden behind the hood. Homura shrieked like death itself as she nearly ran into it. Collapsing, she stared up in awe at the figure.

"Are you..." She swallowed a dry lump. "Are you the Witch of Christmas Yet to Come? The third Witch who's coming was fortold to me?" The figure nodded slowly and silently. "I feel, of those who came before you, I fear you the most... will you not speak to me, Witch?" A slow shaking of her head. "Very... very well. Please, Witch... lead on. I would learn what you would teach." The Witch rose a hand and pointed behind her. Turning, Homura found herself once more at street level, still on her knees. She slowly got up as four people appeared and began to crowd around.

"I know this place... it is the Mitakihara Flea Market... it is like a second home to me...I know most of these merchants." The four people began to speak loudly.

"No, I'm not sad to say I know very little about it. All I know is she's dead." One spoke over looking through a pile of books. The second, a portly man, huffed.

"Do you know when she died?" Came his addition. The third, a woman with black hair.

"I don't know. All I know is the sod's dead and that's good enough for me."

"I believe last night." The first finished. He shrugged as the second found a book over the first. "I daresay it will be a rather cheap funeral. I know of very few who would come."

"Do they know what she's done with her money?"

"Goddess only knows." The third answered the second's question.

"All I know is she didn't leave it with me!" The fourth laughed, his fat belly rolling with laughter.

"If her past history is to be taken into consideration, she probably left it with the company." The second mused. "And I daresay, I wouldn't mind attending. So long as I'm fed."

"Always thinking with your stomach, Tatsuyo." The third sneered.

"What? I am a large man! This mass does not maintain itself. If I am to be inconvenienced so to attend the funeral of the nutter, then I must be recompensed with food. As simple as that." The four explode into laughter and scurry off.

"Have these people no sense of decency!? No decorum? Of whom do they so callously throw such painful words to? To have died and be laughed at at your own funeral!" She turned to the Witch, who only pointed behind her. As Homura turns, she finds herself in a pawnshop, a thin man standing behind a counter, a ring in one hand and a jewelers loop in his eye. The door bell rings and three people scurry in. One is a woman with black hair who Homura recognizes. The other two, a man and a woman, are foreign to her.

"I was here first..." The black haired woman Homura knows speaks, carrying a small grocery bag in her hands. "First me, then Patricia, then finally Akira." The other two seemed to agree.

"Kyuubey..." The pawnshop owner looked at Kirsten and nodded.

"Aye? You've something for me?" Kirsten placed the bag on the table and opened it up.

"I'd like to sell a few things." The pawnshop owner nodded and placed the jewelers loop on the table, placing his ruby red glasses back on his face.

"Very well. Let's see."

"What are the odds we'd all meet here!" Patricia, the woman Homura didn't know, asked.

"Odds, Paticia? Fairly high. We've all a responsibility to ourselves, after all. Goddess knows _she _always did." Kirsten nodded as Kyuubey opened the bag.

"Here we go..." He began to pull things from the grocery bag. "I've a pair of jacket buttons... solid gold... a fountain pen, engraved... and a coin purse..." He stroked his chin as he did some mental math. "I'll give you... twenty-eight thousand yen for the lot, and not a single one more." Kirsten nodded happily and agreed, handing over the goods as Kyuubey counted out her money quickly. "Next!" Patricia stepped up, "What have you for me lass?"

"I was the first to arrive so, naturally, I've the best." She placed a large bundle on the table and stepped away grinning. Unfolding the bundle, Kyuubey's eyes lit up at the sight.

"Bed cutains!?" He growled, laughing. "Goddess bless you, dear, the rings are still attached!" He continued to reign through the package, to be certain that was all, then smiled. "I'll give you thirty one thousand yen." Patricia agreed, Kyuubey putting the curtains on the floor at his feet, he counted out her money. "Finally, Akira-san. Let's see what you have."

"I would like to contend Patricia's claim of 'best find.'" He placed a small sack on Kyuubey's desk, who opened it and drew out a long night gown from within. It was a woman's, very much like the one Homura wore now.

"No..." Homura mused to herself.

"Her nightgown?! Akira-san it's..." He pressed it to his face, smiling. "It's still warm! Did you-"

"Well, she's not going to need it, Goddess knows."

"Pried it off her very corpse, did you? Would have wasted it if you hadn't." He nodded. "Fifty thousand yen." He paid them out as the pair counted their money.

"For what luck we had. The old lass spent so much time in life pushing people away, we are only too happy to come to her in death to profit from." Kirsten smiled as the others laughed.

"I can see it now, Witch. These items they have stolen from the deceased... they are the same as the ones I call my own. I know these people, and I know the deceased by virtue of her deeds, and now I realize that she and I are the same person. Why do you show me this, Witch? What do you hope to gain by showing me the joy my death brings?" There was a pause as a tear formed in Homura's eye. "Is there no solace to this woman's death? Did her death bring nothing but joy and gaity to those around her? Speak, Witch! Show me some sadness at her passing!" Pleading to the Witch, she watched as a single hand came up and pointed behind her. Turning, she found herself once more in the slums, fifteen stories up.

Kyosuke sat at a table, a candle providing the only light to speak of, busily repairing a set of pants which bear a hole in the leg. Suddenly, the man's stony visage begins to break as he suppresses tears.

"Father?" Young Masami asks. "Are you well?" Kyosuke smiles and puts on a brave face.

"Yes, dear... the light is a bit harsh on my eyes... forgive me." He goes back to patching the pants. "I must not show weakness to your mother. She'll be home any second now, and it would be ill if she found me crying..." The door opens solemly as Sayaka returns. She says nothing as she walks in and finds a seat next to Kyosuke. "Welcome back, love... how was the service?" Sayaka forces a smile and responds.

"I only wish we could have all gone, love. It was such a beautiful service..." There was an awkward pause. "I went by there today... it is why I'm late." Homura could not identify the cause of her sorrow, though something chimed wrong with the scene. "I only wish you could have all seen it, how beautiful and green it was... it would have done you all good to know that she's with the Goddess now..." She wiped her eyes with her hands, trying to remain strong.

"Sayaka..." Kyosuke mused, hugging Sayaka.

"You'll never guess who I saw this morning?" Sayaka seemed to recover, though lingering tears were still there. "Marisa Binbou-san, you know, Akemi-san's neice? She told me 'Miki-san, I am heartfully sorry for your loss. If you ever need me, please, do not hesitate to visit at any time of the day. My house is always open.' and she gave me her card." She wiped more tears away. "It wasn't by the virtue of what she could do that she said this... but... I felt as though she truly knew our little Gretchen like her own daughter." She looked to Elsa and smiled

"I've the best of news for you, Elsa! Binbou-san said that she can get you an apprenticeship! You start next week at eight hundred and twenty yen a day! Isn't that great!" Masami laughed.

"Yea! Pretty soon, Nee-chan's going to have a boy she likes, and is going to be getting a house all her own!" Sayaka smiled.

"It's true. But... girls... just remember that... though little Gretchen isn't with us anymore, she lives in our hearts..."

"Yes mother..." Came everyone's answer in unison.

"We shant fight anymore, shall we? And whenever we do, we'll ask what Gretchen would think."

"Yes, mother." They responded again. Sayaka smiled and nodded.

"Good. Let us eat, then." The scene darkened as Homura and the Witch were thrown into nothingness. Slowly, in the distance, a graveyard appeared, the Witch pointing towards it.

"I know now what it is you want to show me, Witch... I am not a naive woman... but before I obey and approach, I would plead with you to answer me one question." She swallowed her heart back into he gut. "I realize these events, if my course remains unchanged, shall happen. I cannot change the events of my future and retain how I am now... but answer me this, Witch. Are these so set in stone? If I am to avoid this end, if I change course now, how will things change? Are these the echos of what will be, or simply one possibility, as variable as the stars in the sky? Answer me!" As she stood, the cloak around the Witch began to shimmer and, suddenly, it became like a raven's wings, small feathers surrounding the cloak. With a gust of wind, the cloak opened, having turned into midnight black wings with stringy feathers upon them. Standing in the Witch's place was a spitting image of Homura her purple eyes dead as her body wore the color of death, high-heels and fishnets upon her legs.

"Without intervention, Akemi Homura, you shall wither and die. You shall become nothing more then an echo of your former self! Misery and despair is all that awaits you on this path! For you! Those you love! And countless others!"

"No! NO!" Homura wailed, throwing herself at the Witche's feet. "No, I will change! I promise I'll change! I'll keep Christmas in my heart every twenty-fifth of Decemeber, and the three hundred and sixty four days it's not! I promise to give out of the goodness of my own heart! Help me change, Witch! Help me change!" The ground below her tore open, and Homura found herself tumbling down a crevasse fast towards a towering inferno. Second before impact, Homura awoke screaming, her throat raw. She was gripping onto her bed curtains, her knuckles white from stress.

"My... my bed curtains... they've not been torn down!" She leapt from her bed and went to the window. It was morning now, the eight AM sun hanging gently over Mitakihara. With a great heave, she opened the window and stuck her head out. She took a deep breath in, the crisp morning air revitalizing her. Looking down, she spied a young girl playing in the snow.

"You there, young lass!" She called to the girl, who looked up, her purple hair falling about her head.

"Me?" She asked, Homura smiling and nodding.

"Yes, lass, you! What's your name?" The girl blinked at the question.

"Iltzi..." She responded gently. Homura grinned.

"What a good lass... Tell me, Iltzi-san, what day is it today?" The girl scoffed.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? It's Christmas day today!" Homura's face light up.

"Christmas day! So I've not missed it! They really did it!" She looked back down. "Erm, say, Iltzi-san... you know the Butcher's shop up the road, yes?" The girl nodded.

"Aye, ma'am, I do."

"Do you know if they're still selling that huge turkey? The one that could swallow you whole and ask for more?" The girl nodded once more.

"Aye, they are." Homura happily tapped the sil of her window.

"Smart lass! Go and buy it for me!"

"You're mental!"

"I'm not! I'm quite sane, actually!" She tossed the girl down a small pouch of coins. "Here! Take that and buy the turkey, and have it brought here!" The girl snatched up the purse. "Return here in twenty minutes, and I'll give you a bonus of five thousand yen!" The girl's eyes turned into spotlights as she broke into a full sprint. Retreating back inside, she closed the window, giddy as a schoolgirl.

"I'll give it to Miki-san... that's what I'll do. I'll have it delivered to Miki-san anonymously..." She grinned happily. "She'll be so confused."

Homura was dressed in her finest in ten minutes as a car drove up, the young girl and the turkey inside. "Blessed lass you are! Goddess bless you and wish you a merry Christmas!" Homura smiled, handing the girl her bonus. Her eyes lit up and she scampered away. "That thing is twice the size of little Gretchen... she'll live... _on my life_ she will live!" The man in the taxi looked confused as Homura gave him the directions, with explicit instructions not to mention who sent it. He sped off as Homura started slowly after him, walking the seven miles to Marisa's home.

"Merry Christmas!" She swaggered to a passerby, who exchanged an extremely confused greeting in return. A little down the lane, she ran into Kirsten, the impoverished woman who owed her a debt. She locked eyes with Homura for only a moment before turning. "Kirsten! A word!" She barked, falling back into her old self. Kirsten, eyes down-trodden, walked towards Homura.

"Y-yes... Akemi-san? I've been working so hard this last night trying to get your money... I... I promise you I'll have the money by noon!" Homura's eyes hardened.

"Come now, Kirsten. You and I both know you'll never find the money in time. You are too far in debt, and not the time to recover." Kirsten began to cry, partially because she was right, and partially because she knew jail was coming. "With this information, I am afraid I have only one course of action I can forsee working." Kirsten closed her eyes and waited. A hand slipped into Kirsten's as Homura pulled her hand up. "I shant have you arrested. I will not waive the debt... however... I will offer you a chance to work off your debt, working for me. I will pay you on top of taking money out to pay the debt. I believe, in three months time, you shall be caught up, and have a new lease on life." Kirsten looked up, shocked and surprised.

"Akemi...san...?" Homura smiled and wrapped both arms around Kirsten, laughing.

"And a very merry Christmas to you! And many more! You start tomorrow morning at eleven! Don't be late!"

"Y-yes, Akemi-san!" She responded happily. "And thank you, Akemi-san! Merry Christmas to you, Akemi-san!" Homura continued down, and after a few minutes came across the two collectors from the other day. They seemed to pass around Homura, until she spoke.

"A very merry Christmas to you, my fine fellows!"

"Akemi-san?" One asked, confused.

"That is my name, and I dare say it is not a pleasant one to either of you. I wish to apologize for how I acted when you visited yesterday, and for my grating welcome. If... you fine gentlemen are still collecting for the poor and destitute, I would like to add my contribution, with my name to brand it, to your list." Both men shook themselves out of their shock, smiles upon their faces.

"If this is no dream, and you truly mean it, I would be more then willing to see you have a donation! Even a few yen will help feed and clothe the impoverished." Homura smiled and nodded.

"Then, if it would please you, I would like to make a contribution of..." She leaned forward and whispered something into the first's ear, his skin going near translucent at the number.

"_Akemi-san!_ Are you serious!?"

"I am!" She responded forcefully. "...and not a coin less! There are a great many back payments included in that, you understand. Would you, perhaps, do me a kindness?"

"Akemi-san, I don't know what to say to such generousness, I-"

"Don't say anything, sir. Please, come see me sometime, both of you. I wish to coordinate with you some form of recompense to the children." The nodded.

"Of course, Akemi-san! Thank you very much, and a merry Christmas to you!

"A merry Christmas to you both!" Her steps were as light as air as she made her way down the street, to a familiar house she never thought she'd visit.

"This one is for you, my love." Marisa spoke, handing Kazuko a present. The glassed woman smiled as she took the box and kissed Marisa.

"Oh, Marisa... you're too kind to me." She opened the box and recoiled in shock. "Marisa! It's... so beautiful! And expensive! You shouldn't have spent so much on me!"

"Nonsense, my love. I shall ever spare no expense for my beautiful wife." She plopped herself down on the couch next to Kazuko, who smiled as she placed a beautiful gold and pearl necklace about her neck. "I would say it only serves to enhance your beauty." The pair exchange a kiss, which is quickly interrupted by a knock.

"Goodness, Marisa, who cold that be?"

"I shall find out." Marisa stands and goes to the door. There is a stilted pause as Marisa returns with a very sheepish looking Homura. "It appears, my dear Kazuko, it's my Aunt Akemi-san!"

"_Akemi-san!_" Kazuko spoke, shock filling her voice. "What... what brings you here?"

"Well... it was my understanding that Binbou-san has extended an invitation to me for dinner and... provided it has not been revoked due to an old woman's foolishness, I'd very much like to accept." Marisa smiled and hugged Homura.

"Of course it is still in effect, dear Aunt! You are always welcome in my home! Please, come in!" Homura wrung her hands in front of her.

"Binbou-san... I want to apologize for the hurtful things I said yesterday... I'm afraid I am still in a depression over your mother's passing... and every time I see you, I only see her face in yours... I'm afraid it has left me very bitter with no good cause..."

"Of course I accept! Mother's dying wish was that we would all be together forever, and that her death not tear us apart. I am glad that you now strive to help me fulfill mother's wish."

"Your mother was a good woman. Taken too soon."

"Aye, she was. But come! Let us not dwell upon the past! Kazuko! Let us set the table for another guest."

"I shall ask this now, but perhaps for next year, would you be against having seven other guests?"

"Seven, Aunt? I didn't know you knew that many people."

"Neither did I, Binbou-san. Neither did I."

A day passes, a day Homura spends with her niece and all her friends. It is a day that all involved will never forget. Morning finds Homura back at her loan business, a mischievous smile plastered upon her face as she hums Christmas Carols. The door opens and her humming stops, a scowl taking the grin's place as Sayaka slowly tries to sneak inside. She crouches really low and stealthily moves towards her desk. She's almost there, almost in her seat before-

"Miki." Homura growls instantly, Sayaka freezing in place and sighing. She stands.

"Yes, Akemi-san..."

"What is this now?"

"Erm... Morning, Akemi-san?" Homura scoffs.

"Morning she says. You're late, Miki. What is the meaning of this?" Sayaka swallowed hard.

"Erm... you'll have to excuse me, ma'am... I'm afraid I was making rather merry yesterday... someone saw fit to bless us with more food then I've seen in some time."

"I don't 'have' to do anything, Miki. I told you to be in early this morning. I do not know what it means where you are from, but where I come from 'early' means 'before you are usually in', not three bloody hours after!"

"I'm sorry, Akemi-san! It's only once a year, I won't let it happen again!"

"Only once a year, she says..." Homura scowled, her inner self grinning like an idiot. She stood and motioned Sayaka to follow her. "I am tired of your constant whining, Miki. 'only once a year'." She mocks. "'If it pleases you'. I shall tell you here and now what 'pleases me', Miki. What 'pleases me' is when my workers do their job! So, I'm afriad I have only one course of action."

"Oh, please, Akemi-san, I need this job! Don't fire me!"

"I know you do! It's why I can do this with a calm heart! The only course of action I am forced to take is quadruple your salary, with much overdue consideration for a future raise!" Her scowl vanished almost instantly as she placed both hands on Sayaka's shoulders.

"I'm sorry come again?" Homura exploded into a fit of laughter, wrapping Sayaka in a strong hug.

"You heard me plain, Miki-san! I'm going to give my best clerk more money, still less then she deserves, but that shall come in time! We're going to move you out of that squalor you're in, and see to it you and yours are well taken care of! And when I eventually pass from this world, if you've the strength about you, I wish for you to continue, under the condition you never allow money to overshadow your loved ones." Sayaka still looked in shock, but it soon faded into a smile.

"Yes, ma'am! Thank you, Akemi-san!"

"A merry Christmas to you, Miki-san! Now! Snuff out that fire and turn the heat on, Miki-san! You and I have a few things to discuss about your future, and we'll do it before we dot another I or cross another T!"

Homura was more then good on her word. Soon, all of Sayaka's family was moved out of the slums and into decent sized houses, all paid in full by Homura Akemi. They ate well every day, and it wasn't long before everyone's opinion of Homura Akemi-san had changed in Mitakihara. As for Gretchen, who I am glad to say did not die of her condition, Homura became a best friend, a best mentor and the best aunt a girl could ask for. So, as so many observed, but spoken best by little Gretchen...

"Goddess bless us... every one of us."


End file.
